


Independence Day

by Jael



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fourth of July, Leonard Snart Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jael/pseuds/Jael
Summary: Leonard's back, and Mick has something to show him.





	Independence Day

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to think up a Fourth of July-themed fic and the end of "Turncoat" came to mind. :) I couldn't resist. Enjoy!
> 
> Set after Leonard's return. Because he'll return. Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta.

“Almost there, Boss! Honest.”

“All right, already. I’m coming.” Leonard Snart muttered to himself as he carefully maneuvered his crutch and himself down the gravel path in the small park not far from the National Mall in Washington, D.C. Next to him, Sara Lance hid a smile, both at Mick’s enthusiasm and Leonard’s resigned patience. Once, she would have found this whole scene pretty hard to believe.

Today, it’s just them.

By the time they’d found Leonard in that warped alternate Los Angeles, spat out by a time vortex and making do as best he could in those conditions, his shattered leg had long since healed, badly. Gideon had been able to get it pieced back together and healing (after a profoundly unpleasant rebreaking), but insisted that the final knitting should be done naturally.

Leonard had grumbled and Leonard had complained…and Leonard had been so damned relieved to think he’d be able to lose the limp that hampered his steps that he’d had Gideon make him a crutch and carried on anyway. He now picked his way over the gravel, Sara at his side just in case, as they made their way down the path.

“So what the hell’s so important that we had to come _here_?” he asked her, more amusement than annoyance in his tone. “And _today_?”

Even cloaked, they hadn’t been able to get the jump ship anywhere close to the city, so the four of them had had to play Independence Day tourist like everyone else, daring public transportation and crowds to get into the heart of D.C. It said something of how Len had changed, that he’d been willing to do so just on the strength of Mick’s eager request, Sara thought.

“That’s something Mick will have to tell you,” she told him, letting her hand brush briefly against his as he paused. “Or show you, rather, since I really do think we’re almost there.”

Len gave her a sidelong look, a smile hovering around the edges of his mouth. At that moment, though, another bellow from Mick had him sighing, taking a few more steps and repeating Sara’s words. “Almost there!”

When they emerged into the clearing a few moments later, Mick was standing there waiting for them, arms crossed. Amaya stood at his side, looking up at the bronze statue that was the area’s centerpiece, and Sara’s eyes went immediately in that direction as well. She immediately put a hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle so not to clue Len in. She’d seen the damned thing in Gideon’s records, but it was quite another matter to see it in person, larger than life.

Leonard was frowning at Mick, so far oblivious. “OK, OK, I’m here. What’s so important that we had to trek all the way out here?” He sighed theatrically. “If I’m going to spend today in this hive of scum and villainy, I’d rather be down in the crowds picking pockets. There are some nice fat sheep out there today.”

“Like you didn’t do that anyway,” Sara murmured to him, earning a smirk—and no denial—in response.

The bigger man just grinned at him.

“I told you I saved George Washington’s life,” he said with satisfaction, taking a step back and waving. “Look. Proof.”

Sara had the pleasant experience, then, of seeing Leonard Snart’s jaw positively drop, leaving him with an expression of stunned surprise that she’d never quite seen before—not even that first night she’d gone to his room after his return. She bit back her laugh, but Amaya didn’t bother, letting out a peel of laughter that made Mick’s grin even bigger as he looked at her.

“I don’t think he believed me, not really,” he told her. “Seemed right to do it today, since we were finally back in 2018.” He patted the base of the statue affectionately. “Pretty neat to see this thing in person.”

Leonard had finally closed his mouth, giving Sara a long-suffering look as he did so. She grinned back, spreading her hands to convey helplessness.

“He insisted,” she told him. “I figured he really should get a chance to see it, and to show you. And honestly, I wanted to, too.”

Len shook his head, then started to pace a slow circle around the statue, studying it as he went.

“Decent likeness,” he observed. “It’s too bad they didn’t put your name on it, but probably just as well.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Mick says happily, regarding it again. “Ol’ George, he was really a decent guy. Practical, great leader. Good fighter. You’d have liked him.”

Leonard looked a little nonplussed by this. “OK,” he drawled. “I dunno, maybe I’m more the Hamilton type.”

Sara snorted at that. “You just like the musical.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Mick, go stand next to it,” Amaya directed him, waving toward the statue. “I want a photo.”

Sara and Leonard watched with amusement as Amaya snapped a photo of Mick Rory with his very own Revolutionary-War-era statue. Mick glared at Len next, pointing next to him, and Sara laughed again as Amaya dutifully took a photo of a grinning Mick and resigned Leonard in front of it.

“This one’s going to Ramon,” Mick said smugly. “He won’t believe it, otherwise.”

“Since when are we all buddy-buddy with Cisco Ramon?”

“Since the aliens. I told you about the aliens, right?”

“Mick, everyone’s told me about the aliens.”

Sara shook her head again. “So, are we going back to the ship now, or are we watching the fireworks?”

“I’d kind of like to see them here.” Amaya sounded wistful. “I know it’s crowded, but it’d be a lovely thing to do, just once.”

Mick offered her his arm in a display of actual gallantry that had Leonard raising his eyebrows. “Then I’ll watch ‘em with you. Um. If that’s OK with you?”

Amaya took it, smiling. “Yes. Yes, it is.” She looked at Leonard and Sara. “And you two?”

Something in her tone told Sara that they hadn’t been nearly as discreet about their new relationship as she thought they’d been. “I think we’ll go back to the ship,” she told the other woman, letting her shoulder bump Leonard’s. “Might be we’ll have some fireworks there, too.” (Len’s breath hitched, and she allowed herself a tiny smirk.)

“Don’t burn anything,” Leonard told Mick. “Unless it’s the White House.”        

“Nah. I know he never lived there, but George wouldn’t like that.” Mick gave the statue one more proud look, then he and Amaya started strolling back down the path. Leonard and Sara watched them go, then Len gave the statue another glance and shook his head before starting slowly after them.

“Missed a lot,” he commented to Sara, something complicated in his tone, as she fell into step besides him. “George Washington. Aliens. My own old asshole self.”

“There were good parts,” she told him, reaching out to curl her fingers around his wrist. “Bad ones, too. I’m just glad to have you back with us now.”

“Glad to be back too.” She felt a momentary hesitation before he slid his hand up and curled his fingers around hers, something he’d never done before. “So…fireworks?”

“If you’re good.”

“You ask an awful lot, captain.”

“You’ll manage, crook.”


End file.
